


The King's Justice

by MarchWardenofGondor



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Ezran is under a whole lot of pressure, I'm don't know how to tag this, Maybe - Freeform, Multi, Sword stuff, Tags Are Hard, Things are gonna get complicated, and all the cool stuff you ever wanted in fanfic, but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25455271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarchWardenofGondor/pseuds/MarchWardenofGondor
Summary: The King has a singular duty, and that is to speak justice in the action called dooming. This is what must always be done. This is why wars are fought, and peace so beloved. Because in peace, there is justice, and in justice there is peace. It has always been easier not to speak justice. To speak, maybe, instead revenge or obstruction. This results in a state worse than war or peace, (whichever is better). This is what must always be avoided, at any cost. That the King would speak injustice.Katolian Court Philosopher Albert in his De Res Publica
Relationships: Aanya & Ezran (The Dragon Prince), Amaya & Ezran (The Dragon Prince), Callum & Ibis (The Dragon Prince), Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince), Soren & Aanya
Comments: 9
Kudos: 14





	1. To Doom (Ezran)

_The King has a singular duty, and that is to speak justice in the action called dooming. This is what must always be done. This is why wars are fought, and peace so beloved. Because in peace, there is justice, and in justice there is peace. It has always been easier not to speak justice. To speak, maybe, instead revenge or obstruction. This results in a state worse than war or peace, (whichever is better). This is what must always be avoided, at any cost. That the King would speak injustice._

Katolian Court Philosopher Albert in his _De Res Publica_

The fire was burning low.

It was getting late.

“Tell me how.” Ezran said, “How come you lived… and he died.”

Aanya’s face looked almost guilty in the reddish yellow light reflecting off the golden silk walls of the tent. Soren’s was unreadable.

“I don’t mean to accuse, or anything like that, I just need to know.”

“I don’t know,” Aanya began, her amber eyes searching Ezran’s face for any sign that she should stop, “that there is a clear reason. Fate calls people home when and how she wishes. My time had not yet come. I do not say that to discount the work my bodyguard did,” she nodded at the guards flanking the entrance to the room, a thick rug covering a hole in the fabric that led to another part of the vast tent, “they did all they could to protect me, but I do not believe that the Crownguard is any less competent than my own guard. I think, in the end, that whatever tactical reason Harrow died isn’t important to know. That would only lead to a defensive stance, one in which you are constantly asking yourself, ‘where and how can I die today,’” She reached out to take his hand in comfort. “I think that what is important to know is that he was called home, to sit with your mother in the Hall of the Slain, and that in his final hours he accepted and even looked forward to that. I know I would. That is what is important.” She kept searching his face, his eyes, drinking in his suffering, and hoping for a sign of his relief.

“Uhh… Yeah, he did actually.” Soren cleared his throat. “He did look forward to seeing her again.”

Ezran stared into the fire, not meeting either of their eyes. “Thank you,”

“Anytime. We’re happy to comfort you, Ezran. We are your friends.” She finished with a hint of a smile.

They remained in that way for a while, Soren sitting ramrod straight, attentive to every cricket, whisper, and stirring of the wind outside, Aanya gracefully lying on a couch, her face a study of pain for her friend, and Ezran cross legged on the ground, staring dumbly into the fire.

“Soren,” Ezran suddenly burst out, “Please go to sleep, I wish to speak to Aanya alone.”

Soren lay down and seemed to fall asleep immediately. Aanya called to her guards, “Marc, Felix, Ezran and I will sleep now, please retire. I will call if I need you.” They left the room silently.

She turned her eyes back to him.

“Yes?”

“I’m King now.” He suddenly looked up from the fire. Blue eyes bored into hers with the desperation of a frightened child. “I have to pronounce doom tomorrow. Please. Help me. You do this all the time. I know you do.”

Aanya was silent.

“You don’t have to tell me what to do. Just tell me how to do it or advise me or something like that. Let’s start somewhere—uh, Soren—I have to sentence him tomorrow, what should I do?”

Aanya was silent.

“C’mon… talk.”

“Betrothed, that is specifically your department. I will not pass judgement on your people.”

“I’ll remember that.”

Ezran looked back down at the fire, mostly coals now, glowing rhythmically with the breeze.

When he looked up again, Aanya was sleeping gracefully.

“Dad, I get how much of a power play it was for you to betroth me to her, but couldn’t you have found someone a little less independant? I mean, this one has sass coming out of her ears.” Ezran grumbled as he climbed on his own couch.

Aanya smiled. In her sleep.

“Stability rules all and joins all, Ezran. It doesn’t matter how sassy I am, if betrothal would help connect the kingdoms, and seal the aid deal, no sane man would think twice before closing it.” she said, “I do not fall asleep so fast. You would do well to remember that.”

-break-

Morning came early, tearing Ezran from his sleepy cocoon. Or, it would be more accurate to say that Aanya tore Ezran from his sleepy cocoon.

“C’mon, I’ve already let you sleep in too much. You need to get up now! Ibis is coming soon, and Rayla and your brother Callum, you need to be ready for them.” She whispered into his ear as she tried to pull his sheets from him.

He didn’t want to get up though. He had to pronounce doom today. Maybe if he just snuggled deeper into the couch…

“Please, get up,” She said struggling against him, not ungently.

He rolled over.

“Ezran,” She said as a warning, and grabbed at his sheets.

He pulled away from her.

“Ezran!”

The silks were ripped off of him with some force, and suddenly he was sitting up.

“This isn’t funny! Get off my couch, and get ready, or so help me, I will have guards get you ready.” Aanya fumed. “You came to me to learn how to be King, but it doesn’t seem like you want to learn.”

Ezran blinked in the golden light of the tent. The grass was bizarrely dry under his feet.

“I came because I wanted a friend, and Zubeia was monopolizing Zym, and Callum and Rayla were… bleh. You being Queen is just an added bonus. I need to pee.” Ezran said, rubbing his eyes and grabbing at himself.

Aanya came into focus suddenly. She stood belligerently, with her hands on her hips, covered from head to toe in golden garter pattern lace over a blue silk gown. Her hair was held up in a bun by sparkling gold and blue lily patterned pins, drawing Ezran’s attention.

“Then pee.” Aanya stated simply. She began to shoo him towards the door, her clothes jingled as she moved, and Ezran caught a whiff of something that smelled like an actual lily.

He didn’t move.

“How did you get dressed so fast?” He asked, staring at her.

Aanya looked angry, that blue makeup they put on her face really brought out the yellow in her eyes, “I’ve been awake since _dawn_.”

“Oh.” Ezran said stupidly, “How long ago was that?”

“Just three and a half _hours_ ago.” She snapped.

The young King could sense that he was in trouble. “I’m sorry?”

“Look,” Aanya said, “I’m going to let you do your thing, now that you’re awake, but if you are always this stupid in the morning, then about four months into our marriage, I’ll probably have an aneurysm and die! Good Morning, my lord, King Ezran.”

She stormed out of the room, leaving Ezran staring after her.

“That was weirdly specific.”

He ran a hand through his hair and stumbled out.

The tent seemed a lot bigger this morning than it did last night, or maybe that was just a trick of the light. It was certainly easier to navigate to the bathroom this morning.

After he finished washing up, Corvus helped him get dressed in some Kingly attire that he had smuggled out of Katolis, and Ezran was finally ready for the day.

Aanya even smiled at him when he joined her in the main room of the tent. See? Maybe an aneurysm wasn’t necessary.

She was seated at the head of a circular table placed in the center of the room, sitting around her were all the dignitaries (or significant participants) of yesterday’s battle: Opeli, Callum, Ibis, Rayla, Amaya, Gren, and Janai were all there with her, a scribe sat in the corner recording the proceedings.

“Queen Aanya, you look beautiful this morning,” Ezran announced as he strode in, very proud of himself for trying to make amends.

“Thank you, my lord.” She responded, “I’m glad to see you’re awake, now down to business.”

Everyone took their seats again and Aanya began speaking turning to address every person at the table as she did so, “The primary concern and end object of this council is the dispensation of justice to all within its jurisdiction of Duren, Katolis, and Xadia, and all offenses committed against those parties, with a secondary object of the creation of peace terms between Katolis, Duren and Xadia. If anyone here disagree with this, speak now…. Okay, moving on. Roll call, and the responsibilities of the council members are as follows, please stand and be recognized, beginning on my right and going counterclockwise around the table ending with myself: My Lord, By the Grace of the All-Knowing All-Father, The High King Ezran of Katolis, Imperator of its Armies, First of its People, Autocrat of its State, Undisputed Lord of the Song Peoples and all within the borders of that State, Protector of that Realm, Chairman of the Council of Five, and Betrothed Consort to the Throne of Duren, he will represent the interests of Katolis on this council, and will hold the power of two votes, If anyone here disagree with this speak now…” Aanya seemed to be enjoying herself, theatrics were something of a passion of hers, (any establishment of power must be recognized: the key to that recognition, get attention) but Ibis and Rayla were staring, and Callum was yawning, “okay, King Ezran you may sit. By the Grace of the All-Knowing All-Father, The Great Ildstedan Virgin Opeli, High Priest of the Realm of Katolis, and Queen Regnant of the Priesthood there, she will represent the interests of Katolis on this council, and will hold no voting power, If anyone here disagree with this speak now…”

Ibis raised his hand. “What is this? I hate to break up the ceremony, but just what is going on here?”

Aanya smiled at him as one smiles at a wayward child, Ezran flinched, “This is me setting the ground rules of the council, if you wish to be uninformed about the members of the council or what we are doing here than you have my permission to ignore us.”

Ibis frowned, “And why do you have the authority to set the initial ground rules?”

“Because I am the most neutral party we have here. If you wish for a more neutral party, we can wait.”

Ibis blinked. “No, I do not want to wait. Just… by all means, continue.” He ended unpleasantly.

“The Captain General Amaya, current appointed commander of the Standing Battle Group, and Princess of Montgaard, she will represent the interests of Katolis on this council, and will hold no voting power, If anyone here disagree with this speak now… Okay, General you can sit.

“The Lord Commander Gren of the Order of Logistics, Prince Consort of Montgaard, and Lieutenant and translator to the Captain General, he will represent the interests of Katolis on this council, and will hold no voting power, If anyone here disagree with this speak now… thank you Commander.

“The Prince Callum of Katolis, Half-Brother to the King and Moromage in the Magic of the Sky and Moon Primals. He holds no lands. He will represent the interests of Katolis on this council, and will hold no voting power, If anyone here disagree with this speak now…” Callum practically fell back into his chair at the speed he sat down.

“Rayla… the exiled and ghosted assassin.” Aanya face pinched, “She represents no-one on this council, is powerless, and is discouraged from speaking. Her presence here was requested by Prince Callum. If anyone here disagree with this speak now…” Ibis’ and Janai’s hands shot into the air immediately.

“Excuse me,” Ibis began, “Rayla should be allowed a voice. I understand that she hardly represents Xadia in any official capacity and is no longer a citizen here, but…”

“You wanted another voice?” Aanya asked.

“Exactly, she will provide about as neutral a perspective as you do.” Ibis finished.

Aanya ignored the swipe and instead put it to an impromptu vote. Janai, Ibis, Rayla, Callum, and Ezran voted for Ibis’ motion, and Rayla had a voice.

“Moving on. The Archmage Ibis of the Sky Primal, Keeper and Guardian of the Storm Spire and its libraries, and appointed representative of the Her Imperial Majesty Queen Zubeia, and Crown Prince Azymondias to this council, he will have one vote, If anyone here disagree with this speak now…”

Ibis virtually jumped into the air, “How dare you? King Ezran has two votes and I have one? Explain.”

Aanya regarded him coolly, “King Ezran represents the interests of not only his state, but also the Pentarchy. You do not represent two interests.”

Ibis sat down slowly. “We will consider this matter after all the chips have fallen.” He said.

“The Golden Knight and Queen Regnant of the city of Lux Aurea, Janai, she will represent the interests of her city, and will hold one vote, If anyone here disagree with this speak now…”

Aanya looked directly at Ibis. “No?” she asked, “And finally, By the Grace of The All-Knowing All-Father, The Queen Regnant Aanya of Duren, Domina of its Peoples, Grand Officer of its Armies, First Citizen of that State, Protector of that Realm, Member of the Council of Five, and Betrothed Consort to the Throne of Katolis, she will represent the interests of that State on this council, and will hold one vote. If anyone—”

“I disagree,” Ibis interjected, “The elves have less votes than the humans, you must rectify this.”

“How?” Aanya asked, clearly annoyed at being interrupted.

“Just give me another vote, like you should have done.”

“No. Represented here is the Pentarchy, with one vote, the Kingdom of Katolis, with one vote, the Kingdom of Duren, with one vote, the City-State of Lux Aurea, with one vote, and the Confederal State of Xadia, with one vote. You will need another interest for another vote. This has nothing to do with species.”

Ibis was silent a moment, then every eye at the table turned to Rayla.

“How about her?” Ibis said.

“The interest of an exiled and excommunicated assassin holds no weight in any council.” Aanya nearly scoffed.

“Point conceded.”

“Anything else?” asked the queen.

There was silence all around.

“Moving on. The objectives for today, the 23rd  day of the Fifth Moon of the Year 1257 of the Exile: appoint a Chairman for this council, sentence all related to the interests of this council, and to begin peace negotiations between the Pentarchy and Xadia. All in favor of these objectives…”

Everyone raised their hand.

“Thank you. The Objectives have been approved. The Chairman will have the responsibility of the recognition of speakers, the recognition of new movements, and the creation of future schedules, in the case of a tie vote, he will cast the deciding one. All who sit here are potential candidates for this position. Who would like to be considered for Chairman?”

Ibis and Janai raised their hands, so did Aanya, and Amaya too. Ezran snored.

“Soren, if you would wake my lord the King…” Aanya deadpanned.

Ezran yelped as Soren poked him, “All of you will be hung.” The young king threatened, “At least let me rest my eyes a little.”

Amaya shed a well-concealed tear. He was so much like his father.

“Ez, you’ve gotta vote on who’s gonna be the Chairman.” Callum spoke up, for the first time.

“Right,” He growled, “Aanya’s chair. Anyone disagree?” Ibis and Janai raised their hands, “Too bad, you’re outnumbered. I’m going back to sleep.” And he put his head back on the table.

Aanya blinked. “That being resolved, lunch will be served at noon, so in about an hour, and supper will be served at five. Next we sentence. Any movements?” she said.

Silence all around.

“It is my understanding,” Aanya picked right back up, “That the primary instigator of violence, conspiracy and disaster in this case is the High Mage Viren of Katolis, it is he who we should sentence first, Seconded?” Callum raised his hand.

“Thank you. Any opinions from the council?”

Janai raised a hand.

“The Chair recognizes The Golden Knight of Lux Aurea.”

“A list of his crimes should be made, in order to sentence him accordingly.”

“Seconded?” Aanya asked.

Gren raised his hand.

“Vote?”

Every hand went up.

“Passed, the Chair will now hear crimes.”

Everyone except Ezran raised their hand.

“The Chair recognizes The Great Ildstedan Virgin.”

“Conspiracy against the Crown of Katolis, High Treason, Pretending to the Throne of Katolis, and the false levy and direction of military forces against its neighbors.”

“Noted. The Chair recognizes the Captain General Amaya.”

“The false imprisonment of the Throne’s Officers, and the false levy…-- Amaya, Opeli already said that.” Gren said.

Aanya smiled. “Noted. The Chair recognizes Prince Callum.”

Callum took a deep breath in and said, without taking a breath, “In addition to the crimes already mentioned, he is guilty of violence against the Crown of Katolis, violence against the Dragon Prince, the practice of dark magic in the lands of Xadia, trespassing in the lands of Xadia, and attempted desecration of the Sky Nexus.”

Ibis’ and Rayla’s hands went down.

“Noted. The Chair Recognizes the Golden Knight of Lux Aurea.”

“He is also guilty of desecration of the Sun Nexus, the murder of the Queen of Lux Aurea, and violence against her forces.”

“Noted. The Chair Recognizes the Queen of Duren. I find Viren guilty of all those mentioned, and of the necromancy of Moonshadow elf assassins in order to frame Xadia for the assassinations of the sovereigns of Evenere, Del Bar, and Neolandia. Those are his crimes. If anyone has anything to add or dispute, speak now… No? What is his sentence?”

Ezran’s head snapped up so quickly it would have given a lesser man whiplash.

“The Chair recognizes King Ezran of Katolis.”

“I move to have the right to sentence my own people in accordance with Katolis’ customs.”

“Seconded?”

Opeli raised her hand.

“Vote?”

There was silence all around.

Aanya counted to ten mentally.

“The Chair will now hear opinions on this movement.”

There was still just awkward silence. Nobody wanted to be first to confiscate Ezran’s right. Nobody wanted to concede Viren’s punishment to a merciful ten-year-old.

Aanya needed to motivate them somehow.

“Without any comment or vote the movement will fail.”

Amaya started signing rapidly, and Gren spoke up, “The King must retain his right to sentence. They are his people and have broken his laws. He does not seek to deliver them from justice, rather to impose the justice of their fathers upon them. He is lifting the responsibility of sentencing from your shoulders. Be grateful.”

“The responsibility of sentencing is our duty,” Ibis countered, “This man broke our laws, and killed our citizens, we will decide his doom.”

Amaya’s eyes sparked, “It is the right of the King of Katolis to sentence its citizens, and those who commit crimes within its borders. Viren is both.”

Ezran was slowly returning to sleep.

“We could compromise,” Callum proposed, “Ezran’s right could be informed by Ibis’ opinions.”

Ibis frowned at him, “That is no compromise at all, it’s just ceding to him, as soon as I acknowledge his so-called right to sentence, my opinion means only what he wants it to,” Ibis turned to address the entire Katolian assembly, “You have elevated a man to the position of a god. This man has no right to sentence anyone. That is his privilege.”

Ezran threw a wine glass at his head. Ibis ducked smoothly. “You _dare_ call _this_ a privilege?” The child-king railed, “This sucks. I will have to effectively kill my dad’s best friend today. Do you understand that?”

Ibis shrunk back into himself a bit, paling for some unknown reason. “Death is a punishment in the human kingdoms? I should have known. Classic human cruelty. My greatest condolences. I will no longer prevent you from doing your duty.”

Ezran took a deep breath in.

“Vote?” Aanya asked.

Everyone’s hands went up.

“The motion passes. What is Viren’s sentence?”

Ezran frowned and rose from his seat. “In absence of a throne… Soren! Bring me Doom.” He said thoughtfully. Everyone at the table turned their heads to watch as Ezran walked to the front of the table, directly in front of Aanya, facing the entrance to the room.

Just beyond the thin silken walls of the room there was a brief scuffle of boots, and Soren strode in, in the shining livery of the crownguard, and, somehow, wearing a silver greathelm plumed with a tall white feather. In his hands was Doom. The sword was of a rigid spined make, with a gentle curve down to the point, thirty-six inches across from his simple cross and three inches wide. His uneven, gilded ricasso gleamed in the filtered light as Ezran drew him from his sheath. He was a kingly sword. The boy’s hands looked small on his ancestral blade’s crimson diapering, but they had a sense of belonging. They were the hands that the blade was forged for, five hundred years ago. He was his father’s sword. He was his grandfather’s sword. He was his great-grandfather’s sword. He was the sword of the Throne. He was the King’s Doom.

“CayBut, get out a new sheet of paper for this decree.” Aanya called to the scribe, not daring to take her eyes off the dooming ceremony.

Ezran planted Doom firmly into the ground between his feet, set both his hands comfortably along the grip, and spoke in a voice that sounded far too regal for a ten year old, “This is the Doom of the High King of Katolis for the High Mage Viren Sorensen, regarding his numerous crimes against the Peoples of the Continent, but especially his crime of High Treason against the Crown of Katolis: In accordance with custom, he shall be stripped of all lands, all titles, all honors, all powers and all rights, and he shall be then crucified for a maximum of three days, after which, if he is still alive, his legs shall be broken, and he will die by asphyxiation. His body shall then be taken down from the cross and burned, and his ashes shall be scattered into the Song river. To be executed immediately upon his capture.”

There was dead silence. Ezran shifted his feet a little.

“Hold up.” Callum said. “Viren is already dead. Why are you dooming him to die?”

No one answered his question immediately. Amaya began signing.

“Unfortunately, we failed to secure his body. I (the General) take full responsibility for that. We also failed to capture his daughter. One of the Del Barish captives went missing last night. Given Claudia’s dark magic prowess, we are fairly certain that Viren has been necromanced. This is entirely my failure for not acting quickly enough. Corvus is already searching for him.” Gren translated.

Ezran shifted back to his original posture, and spoke again.

“This is the Doom of the High King of Katolis for the mutinous soldiers of Viren’s levy, regarding their crime of High Treason against the State of Katolis. As their sin was committed without knowledge, they will not be punished indiscriminately, but if they will take up an oath of loyalty to me, and march with my army back home, then they will be free of punishment, this is the mercy of the King, if they refuse to take this oath, then they will be executed in the manner customary. To be executed immediately.”

There was a scuffle as scrolls were passed from the CayBut’s desk to a courier waiting there, and the courier ran out of the room.

Ezran took a deep, shaky breath.

“This is the Doom of the High King of Katolis for Claudia Virensdatter, regarding her crime of High Treason against the State of Katolis, and all her crimes hitherto.”

Ezran looked challengingly at the table. No one said a word.

“That she should not be harmed or done violence against by anyone, lest she die in her wretched state, but that she shall live until God choose to smile upon her. This is the King’s mercy. To be executed immediately.”

And all hell broke loose.

“Wait just a moment,” Janai yelled from all the way across the table, “What is this? You cannot just let her walk free. She killed dozens of my soldiers. How could you let her escape, and even bless her after all that?”

Ibis was saying something similar but was having such a hard time getting his words together that it was incomprehensible to anyone who wasn’t listening intently.

Amaya and Gren were fighting, and Callum looked like he had just gone into shock. Aanya was crying. Only Rayla and Opeli were untouched.

Opeli stood, and spoke into the storm, and it calmed immediately, “It seems, fellow councilmen, that you are dissatisfied with Ezran’s decree, however, Claudia is not your citizen, and therefore you gave up all power to doom her. Complaining changes nothing. Amaya [here she touched Amaya’s shoulder in order to get her attention] cut your yapping, or I will have you reported for insubordination and encouraging unrest.”

The others settled back into their seats, chastised and silent. Amaya went rock still, moving only to slap Gren when he smiled at her. Gren just laughed.

Callum kept staring, and Aanya kept crying.

“Callum, are you okay?” Opeli asked.

“Oh? Uh. Yeah. I just. That was unexpected. I wasn’t expecting that.” Callum stuttered out.

Opeli smiled in understanding, and turned to Aanya, rubbing her back and making soft soothing noises. Aanya fell onto her and hugged her, crying harder. The sounds of comfort dominated the room for a moment, before Ezran spoke again,

“Soren.”

And Soren was there.

Now Ezran had to doom him. He had to. Ezran could feel the need of discipline, his conscience against his conscience crawling up his legs, and into his spine, numbing him, making it possible for him to speak.

“This is the doom of the High King of Katolis for Soren Virenson, regarding his crime of High Treason: the ordinary punishment for the crime of High Treason against the Crown of Katolis is for him to be stripped of all titles and rights, and for him to be then crucified, and his body burned and the ashes spread in the river Song. However, since he remembered his citizenship and repented of his crimes, this man will be punished only educationally. He committed High Treason under commission by his father the Traitor. He will learn that his sworn duties are higher than the wishes of his family, however reversed that may be, therefore, he will serve continuous deployment, without seeing his family, until the King and the Queen wed, this is the mercy of the King. This sentence will be carried out immediately. For the crime of Oathbreaking: The ordinary punishment for Oathbreaking is proportionate to the oath. However, he committed the crime under commission of his father, and has shown penitence, therefore the King will be merciful. He will take the Crownguard Oath again, and in due justice to the line _Into eternal suffering cast me_ he will have an iron nail placed into his right thigh, to torment him constantly until the King and the Queen wed, this is the mercy of the King; in due justice with the line _from your hearts and minds cast me_ he will no longer serve with the King, but rather will serve Queen Aanya away from his brothers of the Crownguard, until the King and the Queen wed, this is the mercy of the King; in due justice with the line, _broken be my blade_ the man will be made to break the sword Horizon, his birth-given sword, his instrument of Treason, and his previous instrument of Oathtaking. Horizon will be melted down into faggots for the use of the lowest blacksmith in Katolis, he will have a new sword made for him for his service under Aanya, as a reminder of his new life in the justice of the King, this is the mercy of the King; The King forgets the other lines, this is his mercy. This sentence will be carried out immediately. For the crime of Defection: The ordinary punishment for Defection is for him to be stripped of all titles and rights, and for him to be then crucified, and his body burned, and the ashes spread in the river Song. Because he has shown penance, this will not be his doom. The King finds his previous sentence of service in the bodyguard of Queen Aanya sufficient. There will be no more justice passed on this man today.”

Ezran took a deep breath in, retrieved Doom from the ground, and returned to his seat.

Soren was still staring at him. It took Ezran a moment to remember why.

“I will hear your oath tomorrow, along with the other soldiers’. Please make preparations.”

And Soren left the room with a jerk, leaving his cape and surcoat on the ground behind him.


	2. Talk-Talk-Talk-Have Mercy (Callum)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At least lunch was good. The cook, Callum was pretty sure Aanya had called him Tommas, knew his business well around a plate of veal. It was amazing.  
> Rayla tapped his shoulder.  
> “Uhh… Hey, Callum,” She whispered, “Shouldn’t Ezran have doomed the rest of the Crownguard, I mean they didn’t exactly do their job if he got arrested, right?” She gestured across the table to where Ezran was sitting.  
> Callum swallowed what was in his mouth. “Actually, you have a good point, but I don’t think he will. It wasn’t really the others’ fault.” he said, shaking his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this chapter pre-written. I hope you enjoy. March Warden over.

At least lunch was good. The cook, Callum was pretty sure Aanya had called him Tommas, knew his business well around a plate of veal. It was amazing.

Rayla tapped his shoulder.

“Uhh… Hey, Callum,” She whispered, “Shouldn’t Ezran have doomed the rest of the Crownguard, I mean they didn’t exactly do their job if he got arrested, right?” She gestured across the table to where Ezran was sitting.

Callum swallowed what was in his mouth. “Actually, you have a good point, but I don’t think he will. It wasn’t really the others’ fault.” he said, shaking his head.

“Really?” Rayla asked, clearly a little angry, “So, it’s Soren’s fault, just because he was there, and he did what his dad told him to, and the others escape scot free, even though they were in the exact same position.”

“Actually,” Callum said, stabbing another cut of veal from the main dish, “The others weren’t even in the castle when the king died, and were pretty far away from all of the action. How much do you know about the Crownguard?”

“Well,” Rayla began, shifting a little closer to him as the assassin asserted itself in her, “There are twelve of them, they can easily be identified by their livery of sable and silver, they are the best knights of the kingdom, the sworn bodyguards of the king, and his most capable servants, once identified you should always treat one as armed and extremely dangerous, do not engage unless it is vital to the success of the mission.” She turned pale for a second as she realized what she had said, but Callum laughed it off.

“Right. White on the right, black on the left. Let my sword be the light of the king, and my shield be his unwavering bulwark. Where have you ever seen anyone else wearing those colors in Katolis Keep?” he asked with a smile.

“Nowhere?” Rayla said, confused.

“So either Soren is the only Crownguard or…?”

“The others are somewhere else!” Rayla said, realization dawning in her eyes, “But why? Why wouldn’t they be with the king? They’re the _Crown_ guard.”

“Because Dad didn’t think his life was any more important than any of his citizens’, and, in what is generally considered to be one of the most generous and boneheaded moves of his reign, he sent eleven Crownguards to Amaya to help secure the kingdom, keeping only the youngest, and least experienced for himself.” He told her.

“And because they were not in the Keep when Viren usurped the rule, they therefore are not guilty of treason.” Rayla finished. “Very interesting. Do you think you can get Amaya to introduce me to them?”

“Probably, I can be very convincing when—” A soft pinging noise interrupted them.

“The Archmage makes an excellent point,” Aanya said, clearly they had missed something, after the noise ended, ignoring the snarky response Aunt Amaya was already signing, “And I am ashamed we did not discuss it earlier. It will be up for consideration immediately. What is to be the sentence of the foreign members of Viren’s army?” she finished

Opeli raised a hand.

“The Chair recognizes the Great Ildstedan Virgin.”

“Let them be crucified.” Opeli said with surprising force.

“Seconded?”

Aanya looked a little bit surprised when no-one spoke up.

“The motion fails, but the question remains.”

“I will take them as my captives, and they will not be touched in violence by any.” Aanya spoke as herself. “Their safety is the safety of my kingdom. Despite their crimes, I believe that they are better returned to their lords.”

Ezran looked beyond sad in that moment, like someone had torn his heart in half. “You are terribly clever, my queen, but that is wrong. They must die. It is only just.”

Callum was shocked. How could his brother say something like that?

“Die for what?” he snapped, a little taken aback by how hot he sounded, “Doing what they were told?”

Ezran only looked more heart broken. “Yes, that is the request of justice. They have done evil at the request of those with rightful authority, but it is still evil.”

Aanya remained cool, “You will not grant them mercy?”

“It would not be mercy, it would be political maneuvering.” Ezran answered her.

“And your mercy to Claudia [Callum was surprised she remembered the name] wasn’t nepotism?” the queen challenged.

“Yes. It was a recognition that she is only a single year an adult and was in a very challenging situation where the origin of her loyalties was corrupted.” Ezran responded.

“Good to hear. What then, is your plan to recognize the ‘very challenging’ situation these soldiers are placed in?”

“And what is your plan to contain and transport more captives than we have soldiers?”

They stared each other down for a long few moments, much to the discomfort of everyone else in the room.

“Actually,” Aanya spoke again, “After some consideration, I do recognize that there are logistical problems with my preposition.”

“And I realize that mine is a less than ideal.” Ezran ceded.

“What then do you propose?”

“We thoroughly disintegrate the captives; they will be easier to control then.” Ezran answered smiling. He thought he had won the impasse, Callum realized.

“Dad wouldn’t do that Ezran.” He tried, distraught by the direction this conversation had taken. “Dad would try to find another way. You can’t slaughter people because they pose a logistical problem!”

Ezran looked directly at Callum, so hard it seemed that he was staring straight into his heart, “Was Dad one to flout justice? These men are receiving their due from someone who has a right to give it. Don’t give me that cynical nonsense about logistics.”

Callum was wordless. Was this really his brother?

“Ezran, these men have mothers and wives and children,” Aanya cut in, trying a different tactic.

“Good,” Ezran said, “Then they will have people to pray for their souls.”

The silence was deafening.

“Have you no empathy?” Callum choked out.

“I do. Which is why I say this.” Ezran responded, “The soldiers of Del Bar will all die whether I give them justice or not, they will hang themselves as soon as they can, the soldiers of Neolandia will be forever shamed, and so will those of Evenere. They will never be able to look their father in his eyes again. They will never be able to look their kids in their eyes again. Their wives will revile them as honorless men. Many, knowing this, will try to take their own lives before you can return them. For all this, they will hate me, either because I did not kill them, or because I beat them. One of the two. They will no longer be men, even and especially in their own eyes, they will be hateful insects crawling the face of the earth, uselessly, feebly, hoping in a mockery of hope, revenge against a man they cannot touch. You will do this to them, Callum, in your ‘mercy’. You will kill their families, you will make hateful the dawn, you will make their breath poison, because you thought you could separate justice from mercy. Justice and mercy are one. Justice cannot exist without mercy; mercy cannot exist without justice.”

“And if they die?” Ibis asked in a voice stained with great sadness, “What of them then?”

“Their families will love them, because they have paid for their mistake, and are oh-so-willingly forgiven. Their country will remember them as heroes who died with patriotism in their hearts. They will be able to forgive themselves, and thus maybe begin to feel sorry. Or maybe I have it backwards. Maybe they will feel sorry for their failure (I don’t think it matters which) and they will know their penance and will be at peace.” Said Ezran, laying open the full extent of his empathy, “Justice is mercy.”

“Vote?” Aanya managed, staying loyal to her duty as Chair, despite being caught in a terrible Zungzwang.

“On what?” Janai asked.

“On the movement that all the captives be executed.” Aanya answered, in a voice far to calm to be under control.

Ezran raised his hand. Ibis’ hands stayed on the table, joined shortly by his tear. Janai withdrew herself from voting. Aanya’s hands were shaking. But her right found its place in the air.

“The motion passes. How will they die?”

“They will be hung.” Gren said, his first independent contribution, and it was still by way of explanation, “In order to keep their skeletons intact, and to speed the process. Then their bodies will be marked with some distinguishing element, like a weapon or piece of clothing, or their name will be taken before they are executed, maybe both, and their body will then be thrown into a lie pit in order to eat their flesh and make it possible for them to be easily transported, then we will send the bodies back to their countries, for the independent burial of their families.”

Ibis vomited. Corvus scraped it off the grass and dumped it outside so it didn’t stink up the tent.

“Well,” Rayla said uncomfortably, “I guess that’s why he’s the Lord Commander of the Order of Logistics.”

“All in favor,” Aanya said, clearly relived that that was so easy.

Everyone raised their hands.

“Now on to something easier,” Ibis gasped, “Pardon for Rayla’s ghosting. All in favor?”

Aanya frowned at him, “Why?”

Ibis looked like he was going to vomit again, “Is it really so hard? Because she’s a hero! Heroes get pardoned.”

Ezran shrugged, “Fair enough.”

Everyone raised their hands.

“Wait. Are we going to discuss _everyone_ related to getting Azymondias home? Because then maybe me and Callum should be providing a few names.” Rayla interjected.

“Ideally, we would be asking for names, but I fear that if we did, this council would no longer be,” Aanya pursed her lips a moment, “on time.”

“Oh,” Callum said, “If that’s what you’re worried about, don’t be. There aren’t very many people who helped or interfered with us, there’s just Ellis and Ava and Nyx and Lujanne.”

“Nyx?” Ibis repeated, his eyebrows descending like stormclouds.

“Who’s that?” Rayla said, realizing Callum’s mistake. She waved her hands in front of her as she said it, as if to prevent being tackled. “We don’t know any Nyx. Callum didn’t say that.”

“And you would have information about her whereabouts I presume.” Ibis pressed on.

“No.” Rayla said firmly.

“Yes.” Callum said at the same time.

“Call _um_!” Rayla whisper-shouted at him and kicked him under the table.

“What? We can’t lie. I took an oath of obedience when I agreed to apprentice under him.”

Rayla groaned.

“I expected no less from Lujanne, we will discuss this Ava and Ellis later, but who is Nyx?” Janai asked.

“Lujanne has already been rewarded.” Opeli added, before the conversation went any further.

“Nyx is a mischievous rumor who interferes with the Royal Post, and plagues the local highways as a vagrant, a pickpocket, and false guide.” Ibis told her.

“She also tried to steal Zym from us.” Callum added. Rayla slapped him outright.

“Probably in hopes of turning him in for a bounty.” Ibis guessed. He looked back to Callum, whose eyes suddenly got big. “Where is she?”

“Probably on an Ambler, wandering the Midnight Desert, looking for her next victim.” Callum sighed, now fully aware of what he had done.

Ibis rushed out of the tent.

“This meeting is adjourned until it is again whole.” Aanya said with great grace, and then retired.

Callum slammed his head against the table.

-break-

The next morning, Ibis returned, along with a significant contingent of Skywing Elves, and pressed between two of them, was a very glum looking Nyx. The rest of council was already gathered outside of Aanya’s gold-blue tent, awaiting him. Pyrrah was also there. The dew of the already exceptionally wet morning sizzled against her skin, and gathered on Aanya’s meeting table, which she had had dragged out for the occasion. The councilmen took their seats and Aanya called the meeting to attention.

“Elro, Finar, please, bring the accused here.” The queen said elegantly. How she knew the names of the Skywing elves holding Nyx, Callum had no idea.

“Naimi-Selari-Nykantia,” Aanya addressed her, “You are brought here because you have been accused of interfering with the Royal Post, endangering the lives of fellow Xadians through false council, and most abhorrently, attempted kidnap of the Crown Prince of Xadia. What do you say to these accusations?”

Nyx looked very put on the spot. “You-you said—that we had a deal! I wasn’t gonna be arrested if I gave you free passage. I did.” She said to Callum, completely ignoring Aanya, “I gave you my Ambler to ride. We had a deal.” She looked more and more distraught by the moment, tearing at her hair in clear panic, “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted a human. All of you are liars and cheats. My mother was right when she told me—”

Aanya cleared her throat, “What is this about a deal Ms. Nykantia?”

Nyx jumped as if she had been shot, “Nothing your queenliness, I was just talking to an old pal.” The roamer laughed nervously.

Aanya raised an eyebrow. “It appears that you have implicated yourself in at least one crime. Which is it?”

Nyx laughed again, “False council?”

“No.” Aanya said, “I specifically remember you giving him fair passage across the Midnight Desert, how could you have lied? Try again.”

“Messing with the post.” Nyx tried, avoiding the worst one.

Aanya nodded and turned to Ibis, “The punishment for this in Duren is death, because such an act is tantamount to treason. It is intentionally blinding your country. Does this seem a good sentence to you?”

No. That wasn’t good. He had to fix this. “Aanya!” The name burst from his lips before he considered what he was doing. “We did have a deal. I told Nyx she would not be punished if she gave us her services and helped us through the desert. We could not have made it through without her.” Callum leaned forward in his seat, “Please, Aanya, grant her pardon, as you would grant me. Please. I made a deal.”

Ibis looked directly at his apprentice, “The promise of the Prince of Katolis will not interfere with Xadian justice, and in the same way,” he said, turning to Aanya, “the traditions of Duren have no impact on Xadian justice. Nyx will be punished in the way that all elves are punished: Without bloodshed or death.”

“What punishment do you suggest then?” Opeli asked.

“We could banish her, but she already shuns the company of her kind. That leaves only forced service, and boxing as punisments.”

Nyx quailed.

“No. No! don’t box me, please I’ll do anything! I’ll…” Nyx begged on, but Ibis ignored her

“It would appear that she is undesirable for service, as she is a theif, she stole the Dragon Prince, she stole postage, she could steal anything, who would want her as a slave?”

And for a moment Nyx fell silent, terrified into submission by her own inadequacy as a slave. What a terrible thing to be terrified by.

“I would.” Callum said, raising his hand. “I’ll take her, as payment for my part of the deal.”

Ibis blinked at him. “You want a thief for your slave?”

“Yes, fit her with a thrall ring and have this over with. I’ll pick her up at my quarters in the Spire. She will not be boxed. We move on.” Callum answered, at the same time annoyed and uncomfortable, and not handling it well.

The council sat in awkward silence for a few seconds.

Ezran stood abruptly. “We will discuss treaties tomorrow. Now is the time for action. I will hear oaths now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that was kind of short, but where the chapter ends, the chapter ends. Please criticize however you would like. March Warden over and out.


	3. Gift-Giver (Aanya)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man knelt there, his part-human face a mixture of confusion and hate. Aanya shifted in her seat, a little uncomfortable at being so close to such a hateful, monstrous thing, despite how the Crownguard held it down.   
> “Captain Sir Reymond of the Sky’s Mere, vassal of Montgaard, and ultimately of Katolis and the All-Father, will now reaffirm his allegiance to the Throne of his Country and the Religion and Customs of his Ancestors.” The herald announced.

**Giver (Aanya)**

The captives were arrayed on the huge field between the arms of the mountain, encompassed and patrolled by both her and Janai’s forces. They were so few. Her forces that is.

Aanya had dropped everything when she had heard of the coup in Katolis, levied the nearest castles and double-timed it in Viren’s wake. That had been wild, but marching in the middle of three thousand devoted soldiers had created a feeling of power like none she had ever had before, it made her almost giddy. Engaging Viren’s forces had been a roller coaster of panic and triumph.

Now, watching her forces pepper themselves among their sitting captives, she had never felt smaller. She could feel the despair of her soldiers, pathetically struggling against the terror of the monsters they had defeated and now had to contain. She watched as one of the captives spat on the boot of a passing soldier, who jumped aside in panic. All around him the captives laughed. Her men beat the laughing captives severely, but there was no rage in the action, it was hardly an action at all, only undertaken because that is what needed to be done to keep the monsters down. They much rather would have cowered with the other soldiers before this horror of dark magic. Aanya could taste their terror and helplessness in her mouth. It was unnerving as hell.

Ezran sat beside her on the wooden structure that the guardsmen had constructed for the purpose of overwatch and had now been converted into a sitting place for the council. Even Zubeia was able to be there, watching from the mountain. She had forbidden Zym from leaving the Spire for the time being. Aanya turned to look at him, his brow was creased in thought, and his eyes glared out at the arrayed captives, unseeing. He ran his hand through his hair and looked to his left repeatedly. Aanya followed his gaze to Soren, once again in his Crownguard armor, and sweating profusely in the sun. He was nervous, she knew, he was the first to be punished, in accordance with his rank and the prestige afforded his unit. He was to be an example to others, even in punishment. She understood how that would stress him out.

His punishment would scare any mortal, she thought sadly, looking at the hastily assembled blacksmith’s shed beneath the scaffolding.

Then it began, Ezran stood and said a few words about what was to happen, which her herald repeated so that the whole crowd could hear, they were summary words, not giving any particular weight to the punishment they all were to see. It was just another criminal being made to do his penance. Nothing to see here. But you will all see it.

Ezran called Soren, who came to stand before him, and looked down on his king with sorry and sad eyes. Then the King snapped, and an animalistic fear came into the taller man. He began to turn away from Ezran, almost as if he wanted to look at the crowd, but was stopped by a gauntleted hand on his shoulder. Aanya was shocked out of her skin: there were two men standing behind Soren, who had not been standing there before. They looked like him in almost every way, clean shaven, tall, medium length blond hair, except for two key differences, their armor was different, decorated and customized particular to them, and they were older, one looked to be in his mid-thirties, the other in his sixties. They both wore the surcoats and capes of the Crownguard.

They seized Soren between them, and despite his struggles, forced him down onto his knees and tore his cape from him, his surcoat from his chest, his spurs from his heels. They cut his armor from his body with clean, exact knife strokes, and after they had removed any sign that he was once a Crownguard and proud knight of the realm of Katolis they threw him, paralyzed with shame, to grovel at the feet of his King. Ezran looked ashamed for a moment but banished it as soon as it came. There was something missing about the man who lay motionless at Ezran’s feet, Aanya could tell, even though she had only known him a few days. The armor and colors of the Crownguard had been Soren’s vitality, his self-esteem, the lens through which he understood the world and who he was. Stripped of them he had no strength, no life, no movement, he was just a failed citizen, a failed son, a failed brother, a failure.

Then Ezran spoke, “Rise, knight of the realm, take up your sword, and swear your fealty.”

Soren lifted his face an inch from the wood of the outlook and said the words drilled into him since he was a toddler, “Yes, sire.” And he rose to his knees, so that he knelt before the King. Ezran sat in his rudimentary throne and signaled for him to be given his sword.

The sword was of standard make, probably retrieved from the Crownguard armories given to Amaya: Forty inches from cross to point, eight inches from cross to pommel, three inches at the shoulder of the blade. It had a shallow fuller running about a third up its length. It was quite possibly the most generic sword Aanya had ever seen. Yet it was beautiful.

Soren took it from the older guard and laid it on Ezran’s lap, still holding the grip. Then he spoke,

“Be he friend or foe, be he man or child

Elven spawn or Human brother,

Dragon, wyrm, or wyvern,

Monster, demon, or god.

Neither decree, nor devotion, nor sea of spears,

Neither dread, nor danger, nor Death himself,

No strength, no sorrow, no fixed fate

No council of gods, no scheme of man

Shall keep him from the justice of the Crownguard,

Whoso threaten, endanger, or attack

Strike or shoot,

The Lord King of Katolis

This, by my sacred honor, do I swear:

That I shall deal him death and judgement ere the Sun sets.

Hear me and bear this witness, Allfather!

Into eternal suffering cast me if I fail my word.”

Here the Crownguard standing next to him knelt, and shoved a nail under the skin of his thigh. Soren did not flinch. Ezran did.

“Hear me and bear this witness, brothers!

From your hearts and minds cast me if I fail my word.”

Soren paused a second to draw breath. Aanya could hear a shudder run along his length.

“Broken be my blade if I fail.

Womanly be my ways if I fail.

Gone be my generation if I fail.

Remember this oath, Father. I am no longer your son should I break it.”

Ezran smiled.

“And I receive your oath, Crownguard, remind me of your nature.” He said.

“A Crownguard is vigilant. He does not lapse in concentration. He does not divide his dutiful attention. His family is not a distraction. His individual pursuits are not a distraction. His senses are perfect. His mind does not sleep. His body does not rest.

“A Crownguard is competent. He does not fail. He is not overcome. There is no study or art he cannot master. There are few he has not mastered. There is no being he cannot kill. His mind is agile. His body is fit.

“A Crownguard is gallant. He obeys his superior officers in all valid commands. He will never embarrass his country. Courtesy is his byword. His kit is neat and well cared for. His speech is proper. His thoughts are respectful. His body is clean.” Soren said.

“You are assigned to the bodyguard of the Queen. May the gods smile upon you there.” Ezran finished. Then in a more conversational tone he added, “What are you going to call your sword?”

Soren brandished the blade experimentally, “Troth. I think.”

“That’s a good name,” Ezran said, “Here is Horizon,” Ezran handed Soren his old sword, “Do with it what was doomed.”

Soren took Horizon from him with a reverent hand. His birth sword, what remained of his connection to his father. Made to be placed in the long line of birth swords, dating back to before Katolis began, dozens of them, symbolizing the proud history of the family. One the traitor broke and ruined. His king asked him to begin anew. So begin anew he did.

Soren turned away from Ezran a moment and broke the sword over his knee with one swift motion. Then he handed the pieces to the nearest Crownguard and left the podium. He would be reequipped out of sight. 

Next came the tedious part.

Her guards hauled a man dressed in the matte grey armor and red hose of a Katolian up from the field and onto the podium and deposited him before his King.

The man knelt there, his part-human face a mixture of confusion and hate. Aanya shifted in her seat, a little uncomfortable at being so close to such a hateful, monstrous thing, despite how the Crownguard held it down.

“Captain Sir Reymond of the Sky’s Mere, vassal of Montgaard, and ultimately of Katolis and the All-Father, will now reaffirm his allegiance to the Throne of his Country and the Religion and Customs of his Ancestors.” The herald announced.

Sir Reymond curled his lip, “I think the King needs to reaffirm his loyalty to his ancestors. He dines and sits with his father’s killers, after all.”

Amaya went to stand but was stopped by Gren grabbing her arm. The Crownguard restraining the soldier punched him twice across the face with such force that his gauntlet left gashes in the man’s rock like skin.

Sir Reymond’s pupils dilated and he slumped a bit.

“Give the oath, soldier.” Ezran said. He clenched his fist. Aanya could see him shake with stress. What if this man didn’t swear allegiance?

“I…” Sir Reymond tried, his speech slurred, blood leaked out of the corner of his mouth, “have always been loyal to Katolis. Xadia is the enemy of Katolis. Xadia is the enemy of my father, and his father and his father before him. I will have no peace with Xadia.”

The Crownguard sighed and looked at Ezran. Ezran did nothing.

“Repeat after me, Sir.” The Crownguard said, “I, Sir Gar of the Lake (here state your name), appointed a Captain in the Army of Katolis, do here plight my troth…”

Sir Reymond took a deep breath and raised is hand in the Schwurhand. “I, Sir Reymond of the Sky’s Mere, appointed a Captain in the Army of Katolis, do here plight my troth, that I will bear true allegiance to the Kingdom of Katolis, and that I will serve it honestly and faithfully against all enemies and opposers whatsoever and observe and obey the orders of my lord the King, and the orders of my superior officers, and I affirm that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion. I will do my duty well. So help me Father Above.”

Aanya could jump for joy. He did it. He actually did it. One down.

“And I receive your oath.” The King said, the goofiest smile plastered all across his face.

Reymond was helped to his feet and led off the podium.

Then another was brought before the King.

He was not as old as Reymond, who must have been in his early forties. He didn’t look a day older than nineteen, at least from what she could tell, the curse was still there. The Herald said his name was Filiam.

“Sire,” Filiam told them, as calm and collected as can be, “I cannot swear an oath of allegiance to you.”

“Why?” Aanya asked, letting herself speak for the first time.

“Because you are bewitched.” Filiam said, as if it was the most obvious thing.

Ezran frowned, “I assure you I am not.”

“That is exactly what a bewitched person would say.”

The curly-haired king blinked. “Okay.”

Aanya spoke up, “Is there anything we could do to prove that we are not bewitched?”

The boy thought for a moment, “I don’t know, some kind of sign or something?”

“As in a sign from the gods?” she asked, incredulous.

“Yeah.” The boy said.

An extremely awkward silence settled.

“Sir Gar,” Amaya signed “this man has refused the oath. Let us be done with him.”

Ezran and Aanya could only stare as Filiam was removed from the podium. There was nothing to do about it.

The third man brought up swore without any trouble. Then every Katolian soldier present was invited to retake the oath. Quite a few did. Aanya could only watch with great pain as her soldiers led off those who didn’t. She did not look forward to Ezran’s attitude tomorrow.

-break-

Aanya had changed into something comfortable she got back ‘home’ to her tent. She needed something to relax. There was some light cider her guard had brought along. Maybe that was a good choice. She ordered a fruit tray to be made and the main room to be incensed, and she took a short nap.

When she woke up the cloud cover had passed and it was bright in her tent, giving everything a golden hue. She loved that color. There was no noise, none of the clamor she had learned to associate with an army, just silence. She stretched and glided out of the room on bare feet, relishing the feel of the rugs in the passages. The memories of the morning seemed less threatening when bathed in golden light, and filled with the smell of incense.

Soren was waiting for her in the main room, and so was her fruit tray. Yum.

She sat and ate and considered the newest member of her guard. It was clear that Ezran had intended him as a gift, maybe friendly, maybe in thanksgiving for her timely reaction to Viren’s treachery, whichever one, she now needed to figure out what to make of this gift.

She could see that they had already equipped him with Katolian Crownguard gear, burnished to shine like mirrors, so reflective she could count her eyelashes in every plate on his body.

He still wore the colors of the Crownguard. She supposed that if she were a different person that might bother her a bit, but as it was… let him. He was Crownguard after all. Their man through and through. Hmm. She didn’t think that linden leaf on his helmet was standard. Maybe she would ask?

Maybe she would order him to shave his head or some other nonsense, just to show Ezran that she had accepted the gift enough to make it her own? No, that was stupid. She could do that some other way.

“Soren,” she began, after swallowing a grape, “How many are in your lance?”

“Ten: four squires and six yeomen, as is standard, my Queen.” Came the crisp answer. Katolian soldiery was so disciplined, maybe she should ask Ezran for some of his instructors.

She wiped her fingers.

“Sourced from where?”

“Wherever the best and brightest are, my Queen. The Crownguard takes nothing less.”

“Where specifically?”

“My squires are all from the Dragon’s Tail, but my yeomen are from the forests at the feet of Bear’s Tooth. Are you familiar with the areas, my Queen?” Soren answered.

She nodded. “Rest assured I will find suitable accommodations for your command. It is my honor to house such great men.” Aanya said gracefully. “There are no lindens in the valleys of Bear’s Tooth, Sir, and certainly none in the waste of the Tail.” She observed. “Where does your decal come from?”

Soren smiled sadly. “In the wood to the east of Mt. Kalik, near Lightning Hole, there is a lesser valley, called Linden. It is there that my wife’s family is from. I am lord in that valley; therefore, their charge is on my helmet, my Queen.”

Aanya was silent, “Viren holds no lands?”

“None.” Soren answered. “What he did own, the inheritance of our mother, he sold in order to fund orphan’s homes. He had no shame. It was all for humanity. He maintained his earned rank, and his wife could revel in his title, he told her, not a foreign one, held merely for pride.”

Aanya did not miss that he left off the address, “Who was your mother?” she asked, knowing full well the answer.

“Lissa of Eastpoint, the Diamond of Del Bar (All-Father give her rest). She fell in love with my father when he was just a rising star. She gave him many children, but the only ones who took to life well were Claudia and myself. She was beloved by Katolis and Del Bar. Her death brought them both to their knees.”

“The only foreigner to be buried in the Valley of Graves” Aanya whispered to herself, looking at Soren, lost in thought.

If Soren noticed, he didn’t mention.

“You will not see your wife until after we wed, then?” Aanya asked, coming back to a more current topic.

“Yes, my Queen.” Soren answered, straight faced.

“Hmm. And you have children too?”

“Yes, three, and a fourth on the way.”

Aanya smiled, “Four already?”

“Yes, my Queen. I was married at age sixteen and two months. My father thought it best that his son marry as soon as he could, he was still paranoid after Mom’s death. So, we got married as soon as we could, which turned out to be my birthday. It makes it easier to remember the anniversary.” Soren laughed.

Aanya’s smile got bigger. It was good to get to know him beyond the iron and betrayal, especially if he would be working for her.

“Would you like something to eat?” She asked.

“Yes, I have not eaten for a day and a half.” He said, grinning broadly.

She called for Tommas to bring him bread and meat, which he ate quickly and heartily.

“I am very happy to find you so well, especially after such violence two days ago.”

Soren nodded energetically, “You did great in the battle, your archery skills are pretty awesome.”

“Thank you, you aren’t bad yourself.” Aanya gushed. “I’ll tell you what, how about we go down to the range, you can show me what you can do there, and maybe I’ll show you some archery?”

Soren’s face would have split in half if he grinned any wider. “Let’s do it, my Queen.”

-break-

The range was mostly empty. Aanya didn’t want to think about why. Rayla and Callum were there, blowing up archery butts with lightning, and throwing knives at targets. It was heartwarming to see their banter.

One would antagonize the other, and the other would retaliate, and it would spiral out of control into a laughing fit and then they would repeat.

Aanya shook her head, took up her recurve bow and started showing Soren what she knew about archery and its practices. Eventually Callum and Rayla got bored and came over, to see what she was doing with the bow. It was a good time. Callum instigated a rematch between Soren and Rayla, which went on for ten rounds, until Aanya asked them to stop, they were tearing up too much of the archery range. She could hardly imagine a better afternoon to spend after everything that had happened. If anything gave her hope, it was Rayla and Callum’s relationship. That was the future. That was what they had to sell to the rest of the world. That this was possible and that it was even likely and good. Aanya lay back on the grass and watched the spire as the couple chased each other around. She felt like she was living in the future. Rayla sat down beside her and regaled her with stories about their adventures and Callum and Ezran, without a care in the world. She learned about a blind pirate and how teasing Nyx (she was around here somewhere) was when they had met her for the first time. It was her first time so casual with an elf.

Soren and Callum engaged each other in bizzare challenges that she and Rayla laughed at, but enjoyed, like running with an Aspiro spell boost, to see if Soren could run up a tree, seeing how far Soren could throw Callum (wings allowed this to be less damaging than it would have been otherwise), and seeing who could destroy a target butt faster.

Rayla shook her head at this one, “I can see why Callum is his friend now. It was so hard to imagine before, back when humans were monsters, but now… I see.”

Suddenly the elf sat up and jerked her head around. “What in ‘ell?”

Aanya stood. “What is it?”

“A lot of somethings are movin’.”

“Where.”

“Just over the berm.” Soren answered, having just joined them. “We should leave, my Queen. You will not want to be around when they come across.”

“Who are ‘they’, Soren?” Aanya asked, looking annoyed.

Soren closed his mouth and said nothing.

“I’m staying, even if it’s dangerous. I will not run from the unknown.” Aanya announced.

Soren tapped his leg. “It’s not dangerous, just not pretty.”

Aanya harrumphed.

Just then a wain came rolling across the top of the berm, accompanied by men shouting and horses snorting and whinnying. It was filled with amorphous white lumps. And there was another wain. And another. And another.

Aanya scrunched her brows. “What…”

Then she realized. Those were shrouds. Those were bodies.

**Author's Note:**

> You will notice, or have already noticed that both Ezran and Soren act and speak a little more formally, clipped, and even harshly than they do in canon, this is because I thought this tone would be appropriate as they assume their roles as King and Crownguard. If this seems to go overboard at any point, let me know.  
> On a more fun note: kudos are great but comments are my lifeblood, even negative ones. Tell me what you think!  
> March Warden Over and Out.


End file.
